A Jaunt into the Corporate World

On an important errand for work, I had to run downtown to get some signatures from some VIPs at the Wells Fargo Executive Tower.

When you look at the Portland skyline, I'm pretty sure that building is the tallest.

In any case, I got there. Parked in the garage under the enormous building that takes an entire city block. Found the elevators. I needed the 18th floor.

The elevator only had three options: Level A (parking garage), Level 1, Level 2. This will be an adventure...

I pressed the button for Level 2. May as well get as close to the 18th as I can in this elevator.

The doors opened to a bank counter with multple tellers, vaulted ceilings, cushy furniture - all expensive looking and rather classy.

I looked around.

Since no one was in line for the bank tellers, I walked up to one and asked how I could get to the 18th floor.

"You'll need to use the elevators around that corner there."

I looked to where she pointed. "Thanks!" And off I went.

I found the corridor with eight elevators marked A through H. But unlike normal elevators, the up and down buttons one would press to beckon the next available elevator were nowhere to be found.

Just a key pad (like what you have on a telephone, not including the asterisk or pound) on the far left of the row of elevators at the entrance to the elevator corridor.

I decided to hazard a guess that the key pad wanted to know which floor I needed. I typed in "18"

Flashing. Flashing... "F" Hmmm...

I walked to the elevator labeled "F" and, silently, the doors opened. Empty. I stepped inside.

There were 3 buttons inside the elevator. Open Door... Close Door... Emergency.

"Close Door"

And then we were off, the elevator and I. Sleek and silent. I'll just assume this thing knows where it's going...

In not much time at all, the doors opened to reveal a wide hall with the number "18" on the wall opposite me in the elevator.

Standing in the hall I looked left... then right. There were no signs really to indicate where I could find the very important persons whose signatures I needed. And it was silent. Like a library, but worse.

A lady walked up from somewhere, saw me, sized me up, and pointed to the left before getting into the elevator she had just summoned with the keypad.

Going where she indicated revealed a marble receptionist's desk and room with posh modern furniture, strange art, orchids and other interesting potted plants of various sizes, and floor-to-ceiling windows with a gorgeous view of the Willamette River, tall buildings, and bridges.

Although I had dressed for the occasion in a pantsuit and collared shirt with my long collared coat and with a nice wool dress scarf, black pumps, and my hair pulled into a professional French twist, the receptionist apparently didn't think I looked like one of their typical wealth management clients to grace the presence of that floor.

When I told her who I was needing to see, she narrowed her eyes and asked if they were expecting me.

"They are." In fact, they emailed me earlier this morning to say that what I had for them to sign was important enough that their meetings could be interrupted when I got there. But I kept that thought to myself.

"Hmm... well please wait over there."

And wait I did. I enjoyed the view for a long time. It was one of those hazy, sunny days. But the brightness shining through the sky and creating shadows with the buildings was interesting. You would be surprised how many many buildings have grassy parks on the top of their buildings. I wonder how they get the lawn mowers up there...

"Who was the other person you were looking for?" The receptionist asked after about 20 minutes when she noticed I had stopped watching the world outside and had picked up a Wall Street Journal.

I told her. And she said she would ring the secretary.

Surprisingly to her (though not to me), the Regional CEO would see me right away. I would need to go to the 20th floor.

Inside the glass doors of the reception area of the Executive Suite, I was sized up again by the receptionist... who rang the secretary... and then by the secretary herself. Sheesh people...

She took the papers. Walked down a long hall to a wood paneled wall with a large door, slipped inside the door. I sat in an uncomfortable - though quite expensive-looking chair - set on a magnificent rug with more of the exotic plants and strange art.

A few minutes later she returned with the papers. Signed.

I returned to the 18th floor. Waited a little more. Then the secretary came out, sized me up, took the papers, disappeared for a few minutes... When she came back, they were signed.

Thankfully, this one smiled a real smile as she handed the papers back to me - not a tight-lipped fake smile like all the others.

I beckoned my elevator with the key pad and retraced my path back down to the bank, around the corner to the other elevators, down to the parking garage, and then to my car.

What a bizarre hour of time spent... But I had my signatures. And my Vice President would be happy that the signed letters would go out in the mail that afternoon.

But, seriously... I'm glad I wasn't sucked into the corporate world like I once thought I had wanted way back when. God really changed my heart through college and pulled me in a different direction. He gave me the opportunity to work somewhere that does more than make money. Things with eternal value. For me, fulfilling work. I'm so thankful I work where I do.

And I hope I'm always friendly to people, no matter what they look like or who they may or may not be.

"Do not be overawed when a man grows rich, when the slendor of his house increases; for he will take nothing with him when he dies, his splendor will not descend with him." Psalm 49:16-17